It's not true to say that I've never been to Wales in the dry. I remember a day on the Gower Penninsula that was distinctly, well, not wet. And I've been up Snowdon on a hot day.
Nonetheless recent Welsh trips have been distinctly aquatic. On Weds (our plans torn up due to unforeseen) we headed out, aimlessly in the direction of Hay. But Hay is no fun in the wet, and with Fergus and Jonathan both asleep (or at leats approximately asleep) in the car, we headed on to Brecon, more or less by default.
Lunch was pefectly acceptable (the all-day breakfast did the trick) and then we hit on the mother-lode. A play-barn. Goodness knows what our parents did, in the days before play-barns. I guess they drugged us. Or forced us to walk along the seafront in the rain as some form of character building exercise. My parents never took us to Wales as children, probably because there's bugger all to do if it rains.
But now we have play-barns. Hallelujah.